He Who Came After
by Wynter's Fall
Summary: As Juno starts to begin her plans for world domination, Desmond takes it upon himself to stop her, and to do so requires him to step into the memories of his ancestor Connor Kenway, for the final time. And as he does so the ultimate question begins to come clear, Freedom? or Order?


**A/N: Sup guys, this is my idea, of an AC4 if you will, if Desmond had somehow managed to survive the blast, the question becoming. "How does one kill Juno?" And subsequently his final venture into the Animus, and the life of Connor Kenway. Hope you enjoy, special thanks to ShadowNinja1011, my Beta.**

Chapter 1: The Killing Floors

**"When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself."**

Abstergo Industries, to the outside world it was one of the world's major transnational corporations. It was particularly known for its research into pharmaceutical products and had developed cures to many of the diseases in the world. There had been essays and articles on the company saying that the work Abstergo did was nothing short of a miracle. The real story behind Abstergo though wasn't known to anyone outside The Creed. Miracles were easy to engineer with the pieces of Eden, even more so if you could uncover the powers that the pieces possessed. The business was seen as one of the 'lights' of humanity.

As he looked upon the building and its trademark logo, he couldn't be more disgusted.

The story of Abstergo was embedded with history, formed immediately after the Second World War; the business had become the organization that the Templars worked through the most. Destroying Communism, ensuring Capitalism was the main focus of the world and its stance. Everything Abstergo did was directly linked to The Plan. The Templars plan to unite the world under one banner, 6 billion people all a part of one nation. A plan to enslave mankind under Templar rule as Connor would most likely have put it.

A smile came to his face as he remembered the memories he had received off that particular individual, memories that had come in more than useful in the modern world.

Altair's Skill, Ezio's agility, and Connor's ferocity, all combined into one form and after months of training whilst the world slowly began to fall to pieces had led to him believe he could do this.

Desmond looked up at the building once more before slowly making his way towards it.

Painless…That was what the bitch had promised him; of course he probably should have realized Juno was not someone that could be trusted. He didn't know how he was still alive, the current had passed through him for what felt like an eternity, only for him to wake up and find the temple completely deserted. Some part of him knew that the apple had absorbed the current, after all the Papal Staff revived Rodrigo Borgia when Ezio assassinated him.

The Pieces of Eden had limitless potential, of that there could be no doubt. And while-ever he had it he was determined to find out just how much The Apple of Eden could achieve.

It had been six months since he'd left the temple; the first two weeks had been spent in New York as he'd recovered from the events that had transpired. During that time he'd realized he had two options, return to the assassin's or go off on his own as he tried to destroy Juno. And as much as he'd wanted to see his father and mother again, he knew it was better to stay away.

Juno would be so focused on trying to eliminate the Templars and Assassins that she'd pay no attention to a third party in the race. That was the theory at any rate.

So the next four months had been training, training and more training, learning how to use a gun, blending the forms of fighting he'd learned into one form and finding out how effective that form was.

The Templar Order had installed a new head during the months he had been inactive, Dr. Michael Rustvik. A man born in the slums of Ukraine about forty-three years ago, who had grown up majoring in two things at university. Genetics and Theology. The man was like the God of Templars, and he was a religious fanatic believing that humanity should serve a higher being greater than them. Something one didn't necessarily want his opponent to believe when a Goddess was on the loose. Because the Templars and Assassins would need each other for this battle, if they didn't death was probably a given.

So Rustvik had to die, and he needed to die in style. It was time to announce he was back.

It was time to let her know that he was a tough bastard to keep down, and that he was capable of anything.

Because the more he had waited, the more nothing had turned up. And if he could get what he needed, then here was the place, he just had to get through the army of guards that blocked his way. There'd be something in the man's office he just didn't know what, maybe an e-mail? An artifact? Hell maybe Juno herself? Then he could get his revenge and save the world in about two hours of work, he wouldn't mind that to be honest. He could finally get back to being a normal assassin, not a man dealing with Gods and items that could turn millions into slaves.

He knew almost nothing about the building, because every time he'd been near Abstergo it had happened in Rome, New York was an entirely different beast. All he knew was it had thirteen floors, thirteen floors of heavily armed guards which he would have to deal with first. The positive side though was that Abstergo didn't contact the authorities whenever they were attacked. That would mean faces on the scene, and they didn't want to police to know of anything they had planned, the organization would probably be hunted from every corner of the globe if anyone could see half the things Abstergo did.

The plan was simple really; it was something that he had been inspired with by Ezio. Take down a guard, get his clothes and stay in the building long enough for it to be closed. Then proceed to take down anyone in his way without any witnesses. Perfect in theory, a bitch of a thing to pull off without any help.

Phase one… He thought grimly as he sat by the entrance to the building sitting with his back resting against a tree, a bottle in his hand as he sung away merrily.

"99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer." He sang the tune away whittling the numbers down slowly, increasing his voice so they could hear him.

Eventually he heard a voice behind him say. "Deal with it; it's only a drunk man for godsake."

"Really boss, what if this is a plan or something?"

"I think the Assassins are more focused on the Middle East at the moment, don't you? Now get to it."

The man then walked up to Desmond, baton on his belt, gun in his holster, he wouldn't get time to use them, hell he wouldn't even get time to speak.

"What's up mate? Nice night ey?" He slurred out as he lolled his head backwards and took another sip of the drink.

"This is private property sir; I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The guard ordered as he stood their arms crossed expecting the drunken bum to comply.

"Why I'm here mate!" Desmond exclaimed. "I was looking for some private time." He said giggling as he did so.

If there was one good thing about working in bars, he'd discovered an acting skill, playing the perfect drunk, a drunk so convincing no-one could possible suspect he wasn't.

The guard groaned before muttering. "If you won't I will."

He leaned down and grabbed Desmond's arm that was when Desmond struck, grabbing the guard's throat he released the hidden blade which went straight through the man's throat. A faint gurgle was the only sound that escaped the man's mouth as he slumped to the ground. A perfect kill.

Desmond simply swapped shirts with the man and placed the bottle in his hand. Throwing away the weapons and turning the guard into an unconscious drunk in the space of thirty seconds. Throwing on the shirt when he realized their pants were exactly the same, he walked into the building arousing no suspicion at all, now it was just time to play the waiting game and wait for the perfect moment, he couldn't leave the ground floor as that could mean guards ambushing him from behind later on. He could probably deal with it, but it was a nuisance which he didn't really need.

So he patrolled the halls quietly, answering the security office back when it checked in on him and following their instructions, an hour later and the doctors finally made their way out of the damn building, ten minutes later he locked up the building and closed the blinds. That was when he unsheathed a hidden blade and removed the small blade he had stuck to his back, short sword sword more commonly known as a Katzbalger. Just small enough to fit across his back without arousing suspicion but more than lethal enough the deal with his enemies.

With a smirk he looked at the guard before him, with his back turned. Let the fun begin. He thought as he began to move forward.

XxX

He was alerted to the sound of the door opening, as a man walked in and placed a file onto his desk. He thanked him as he reached for the cup of coffee on his right. Paperwork, it was all he seemed to be doing these days. His time now consisted of sending member after member on their way to any country which had reported 'unusual events'. The amount of missions the Order had carried out within the past 3 months was almost as much as they had performed in the last five years.

Any scrap of information, anything which seemed out of the ordinary and a team was sent. Not all of them came back, but the ones that did never had anything to report.

William Miles let out a sigh as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, it had been a long day, hell it had been a long six months since the day Desmond died. Putting your faith in humanity only worked so well, and from the way things were going it hadn't worked well for Desmond at all.

He remembered every minute of that day, like a living nightmare, he didn't need to be asleep to remember his sons final words, only days after they'd managed to put the past behind them.

_Get out of here!_

_There has to be another way!_

But there wasn't, and his son had died. Juno had timed it to perfectly, and the only option had been the one that Desmond took.

He had given his life for the world, and they couldn't even find a damn goddess in return.

Luck didn't seem to go the way of the assassins, more and more recruits were being shuffled out without enough training and the body count was rising. They needed help, but there was only one group they could turn to, and that group was being led by a man who worshipped Those Who Came Before. So unless he died sometime in the near future, any and all hope of them stopping Juno was small, and it was growing smaller each day.

It was a strange thing, losing your son. He'd long come to terms with the fact that one day one of them would die, working for the Assassins wasn't a task that many could survive. He always expected that he'd be the first one to go though, and no matter how much you convinced yourself, losing a child was the hardest thing you could experience. Being captured by the damn Templars couldn't light a candle to amount of pain one felt as they watched their son die. There was only so much pain one could feel physically, emotional pain though was one thing that had no barriers, it was something which couldn't be controlled.

Pain, happiness, regret, the mind was the strongest force on the face of the planet. It could drive you, make you strive to be the best at whatever it was you wanted. It could give you the hope and belief to keep going in the face of adversity. Just as quickly as it could break you, and reduce you to a hollow husk of who you were and who you could ever hope to be. It was the ultimate weapon because it could do anything at any time, and you never knew which way it would go, until you were at the point of no return.

William Miles had fashioned himself as a man who didn't break, who refused to give in and didn't care who got in the way of achieving his goal. He'd been known as the 'ice man' in some circles. But even ice could break, nothing was indestructible, no-one was able to escape the accursed punishment that their own mind could inflict upon them. Not even William, no matter how much he tried to put the thoughts surrounding his son's death into the back of his mind. Had it hurt? Had there been another way? Could William have taken his place? Questions he'd never know the answer to.

Questions that would plague his mind for eternity.

His wife, was exploring a part of the Amazon with her team, she hadn't taken Desmond's death to well, especially since William had refused to let him talk to her. Not seeing your son for over ten years tended to have a negative effect when you found out they were dead. Still, she'd decide to immerse herself in her work, whether that was good or bad William didn't know. But he was grateful that she had because she was one of the most useful members that they had.

Being the Mentor of the Assassin Order had its perks, but it was bloody tiring at that. He liked the job, he'd always been good at organising and commanding, it was why he was the head of the farm for twenty years. While he wasn't charismatic, or intimidating he was the one thing that the order needed the most right now. Organized. It was the one thing they needed now because the witch-hunt had seen them go everywhere and anywhere, there were agents littered in almost every region they could find. Every corner of the globe, every sacred site in the world, you name it there was an agent trying to find information of anything that could be useful to the order.

William picked up the file that had been placed on his desk and looked with interest. _Project: Black Flag_… _Interesting, I'll have a closer look tomorrow_. He thought as he went to turn off the light and leave the room.

XxX

The guard charged at him swinging the baton wildly, Desmond swiftly stepped out of the way, kicked the man's legs out from under him and thrust the hidden blade into the man's eye as he fell whilst blocking the man behind him with his sword. He then rolled sideways out of the other guards reach, the man charged forward as Desmond ducked underneath and ran his blade through the man's back before yanking it out and moving down the hallway.

He broke into a sprint as he saw another guard make his way around the corner, diving on top of him and removing the threat before the man could make another sound.

The place was in chaos, the last batch of guards able to set off the alarm before they were killed. He'd made it up the first eight floors before that had happened, now there were only four more to go.

He quickly slipped into his sixth sense and saw pairs of feet right above his own a batch of guards made their way to the elevator. He then picked up a flash grenade from one of the other guards corpses, why they were carrying these things around he wasn't quite sure. But they were going to be bloody useful especially when this one came into effect. He ran into the elevator and opened the hatch so he could stand on the roof. The elevator ascended one floor in the space of 3 seconds as the guards filed in ready to move down and deal with the threat below them.

That was when Desmond dropped the grenade into the elevator, shutting the hatch so he wouldn't cop the brunt of the blast. He then jumped into the middle and stabbed a few of the men with his blade. Proceeding to use their corpses as shields whilst the other guards swung their batons blindly, hitting their other men more so than the guards Desmond had just grabbed. Before their vision returned the guards had hit Desmond perhaps 3 or four times, in the process of knocking out their other men so only two were left. He then proceeded to drop the bodies driving his sword into ones chest before kicking the other into the wall and thrusting his blade into the other's stomach.

He then closed the elevator sending the guards down to the first floor, each man probably wouldn't be up for another three hours at least. With that he walked down the floor, bypassing the screaming secretary as she ran past, as though he were the devil himself. He smiled at the thought, because if he was the devil than what Juno? What power could possibly trump that of The Devil? Desmond was going to find out, and he was going to find out soon if he had his way.

She might be one of Those Who Came Before, a group of people who came to be revered as gods, like he would have been if he chose not to save the world. But she wasn't immortal, anyone could die, he'd seen it before, in the memories of his ancestors. No matter how unstoppable one seemed, all it took was one person, and shitloads of determination.

She might have been one of Those Who Came Before, but he was He Who Came After.


End file.
